


Out with the Old, in with the New

by Annie46fic



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: F/M, Illuminated Challenge, M/M, Minor Violence, Underage Character, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-29
Updated: 2012-06-29
Packaged: 2017-11-08 20:02:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/446962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annie46fic/pseuds/Annie46fic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen suffers physical and mental pain during the war. Afterwards he leaves his old world behind in the hope he might be able to start a new one. Jared is a boy who seems to move into his new world and stay. Can these men - both damaged in some way - start a new life in a new world?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out with the Old, in with the New

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N** A huge thank you to Siriala (on LJ) for the inspirational art, which can be found [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/447788). It was so easy to choose the pictures she posted for this challenge and the words just flowed. Thank you to the mods on spn-illuminated too for a great, great challenge!

  


**New World**

The place is a mess, a wreck.

The walls are cracked and crumbling and the roof is so full of holes that rain has leaked into the interior of the house turning the walls dark with damp and mold. The kitchen is small; a brick built sink and one cupboard with the hinges broken and a door hanging off the only furniture. The tiles on the floor are solid enough though and he cannot help but smile as he imagines what they might look like all cleaned up and shiny. Another room, the lounge he guesses, is big and wide, the ceilings high and stained with something he did not even want to think about. Off this room is a small flight of stairs that leads to the upper level. Two bedrooms he notes, both are empty, the scent of damp and rot strong in his nostrils. He hitches his pack higher on his back and thinks about what is inside. Money, safer there than in a bank, money that was earned the hard way, money that he near broke his back to obtain but it was his money to do with what he wanted. 

And, he knew what he wanted – he wanted this house.

***

**Old World**

The constant explosions had him partially deaf, momentarily, and his feet hurt in his ill-fitting boots. The one good pair of socks he owned were always damp and he wondered how he had sunk so low. They had taken the beaches four days ago but not without casualties and certainly not without the loss of life. He sat under an awning with what was left of his regiment and stared out at the choppy waters of the English Channel. It was grey and cold like the sky above them and he missed the States, missed the hustle, bustle and warmth of his hometown. Here on this French beach, seemingly miles away from everything that was familiar to him, he realized how much his parents had sheltered him, kept him away from real life, hidden him from a world that was harsh and unforgiving. Until he had become a soldier, he had never slept on anything less than silk sheets, never eaten food that hadn’t been perfectly cooked, wonderfully laid out on porcelain plates, never been cold or wet or so fucking tired. He wasn’t the man he used to be and war had taught him a lesson that he would never, ever forget.

***

**New World**

He sleeps in the old house regardless. It is freezing under the broken roof but he doesn’t care. He has grown used to the cold and, anyway, if he opens his eyes he can see the stars and it is like being in heaven. 

Early morning and he hears the sound of footsteps outside. He sits up quickly and stares out into the dusky half-light wondering. For a moment, he thinks it is a cat or dog or some other furry critter but then he sees long legs just above the cracked window ledge and he knows that his visitor is human. He sits up, shrugs into his shirt, and pants. He is on his feet and out of the door before he has a chance to consider if his visitor is dangerous. 

There is a skinny boy in the overgrown weed-filled garden. He is almost too tall, gangly and wobbly like a newborn colt, long messy chestnut hair hanging around slender shoulders, his nose tip-tilted and long in profile and his jaw strong. Jensen watches as he reaches up into one of the trees and plucks down a green apple, checking it for worms, no doubt, before biting into it with a satisfied smile.

Jensen continues to watch him for a long time; he doesn’t want to chase the boy off. It isn’t quite his house yet and he figures, even when it is, he needs all the help he can get. He smiles as the boy tosses the apple core into the weeds and vaults over the low and crumbling wall.

Jensen doesn’t think that will be the last he sees of the boy and, deep down, he hopes he is right.

***

**Old World**

Danneel was beautiful; a red head, from a rich banking family like his own and everything he had ever wanted in life. She was sophisticated and stylish and she had a good sense of humor and a lot of charm. They met at a ball in the Governors house upstate and their families approved from the get go. When Jensen proposed, Danneel’s family threw a huge party and the two of them received extravagant gifts of money. Jensen always intended to buy a house with it, had seen a smart town house on the expensive side of the city he really wanted and was hell-bent on taking Danneel there and letting her see their future.

Then the war came and all of his good intentions flew out of the window with the brave impulse he had to become a soldier. His momma tried to tell him that he shouldn’t fight but he didn’t listen, wouldn’t even consider not signing up. He was young, fit and able and he wasn’t a coward. Despite his momma’s tears and Danneel’s tantrums, he signed on the bottom line and became one of ‘Uncle Sam’s’ finest.

***

**New World**

Buying the house isn’t hard in fact it is almost too easy.

They accept his first offer and look at him as if he is insane. The realtor shakes her head and tuts, making notes on a pad with a stubby pencil. 

“It is going to cost you a small fortune to put right,” she says and Jensen smiles. He knows she is right, he did the figures, added up the numbers, but he doesn’t care. He wants this house, wants it more than he ever wanted anything and that includes the beautiful Danneel. This is not his dream town house in far off New York state, this is real, this is now and it is something he is determined to have.

“I look forward to the challenge,” Jensen murmurs and the woman shakes her head again clearly thinking he is more than a little insane.

****

When it rains his roof leaks and he knows that is the first thing, he has to fix. Despite his defiant words to the realtor, he knows he has a job on his hands and, for the first time since handing over his money, he feels a shiver of panic run down his spine, a worry that he has wasted something he worked hard for, and almost broke his back for. He hasn’t much money left, he can’t afford laborers, and he doesn’t have the first idea how he is going to fix this.

He stands in the huge orchard garden pretending to survey the land; the area is beautiful and remote and the view is astounding but his roof is still leaking and it looks like rain once more.

He finds an old ladder in the outhouse and props it up against the wall. He considers what he might be able to do and he is still considering when he hears a voice say, “You wanna’ hand with that?”

He turns to find the tall skinny boy who stole one of his apples. Up close he appears even taller, his strong jaw and tip-tilted nose giving him a mischievous air.

“Can you mend roofs?” Jensen doesn’t mean to be condescending. He probably isn’t more than four or five years older than the boy but he has seen so much, experienced so many things and it has made him feel old, jaded and worn before his time.

“Pa was a handyman.” The boy tipped his head to one side and examined what he could see of the broken structure. “He could fix just about anything.” He shrugged and said, “Let me have a look, see.”

The boy shimmied up the ladder and peered up onto the roof. He shook his head and hummed a bit then came back down again but he was grinning and Jensen took that as a good sign.

“Can you afford timber?” The boy asked. “Old man Singer has a timber yard, a few miles on down the road, and he sells cheap – you get the stuff and I’ll help you fix this.”

Jensen considers what the boy has said and nods, an odd sense of satisfaction creeping through his veins.

“You can do that?” He asks, finally.

“Can do anythin’ I set my mind to,” the boy replied with a grin that makes his cheeks dimple. Jensen grins back and makes a decision.

“I’ll make some coffee,” he says.

***

**Old World**

When he is able, he writes; long letters with wobbly writing, smeared ink and splats of mud. He writes of love and devotion, tells Danneel how much he misses her, how much he wants to be with her when all this is over. He keeps her picture in the top pocket of his uniform and stares at it when he feels at his lowest ebb.

At first she writes back, a letter a week and he gets batches of them all tied up in a red ribbon. His colleagues tease him, particularly Aldis; a skinny black guy who paired up with him when they hit the beaches and has been at his side ever since. Aldis flicks his head and pretends to preen, batting his eyelashes and calling Jensen, _sweetheart_. Jensen takes the teasing for what it is but he appreciates the letters, he likes that Danneel writes to him, likes that she mentions his return, their wedding, and the house they are going to buy. Jensen holds those letters dear; they are his one connection with home, his lifeline.

***

**New World**

The boy’s name is Jared and he knows the town back to front.

He is of Polish descent, his grandparents bringing their young children, making their home here at the turn of the century, fleeing poverty in Europe and seeking a brand new life. Jared loves America and he loves life. He is street smart and can turn his hand to anything, practical with his hands and quick with his mind. He takes Jensen on a tour of the town (small and intimate, a couple of stores, a bar and some rickety houses) and shows him where to buy the cheapest timber, the best slates, and the hardiest animals to work on the land.

****

Their first job is the roof. Jensen finds himself relegated to the task of holding the ladder while Jared climbs up and begins to mend the wrecked roof, hammering in wood and tacks, talking almost constantly, long hair hanging in his face, long legs dangling half off and almost in the guttering.

Jared is a hard worker; he never tires, he works well into the night, until it is far too dark for him to walk home and Jensen doesn’t yet have a car to drive him. They eat beans from a can, cold because the range doesn’t work yet and fresh apples from the overgrown orchard. Jensen feels tired, exhausted but happy and he is sure that things are going to go well.

Jared bunks with him in the big lounge. The bedrooms won’t be ready until the roof is totally fixed and they have been aired and maybe even painted. Hell, he doesn’t even have beds. They sleep on mattress rolls, warm and snug under piles of threadbare blankets, hard work and fresh air easing their way into sleep.

Late summer and the house began to take shape. The rain stopped and the sun shone down on them as they worked. The roof was fixed, new and solid, keeping out the weather. A friend of Jared’s came to repair the range, a plumber, a plasterer, Jared seemed to know everyone and they all worked for the peanuts Jensen paid them, all of them determined to get the job done.

There was camaraderie akin to what Jensen had known in the army. A gathering together of kindred spirits that made him feel part of the world again. He never told anyone his story; never let them know how he got here, who he was. He wondered if he could or would ever tell another soul. The man he was before the war was long gone and he didn’t quite know who he was right now.

****

Jared doesn’t seem in any hurry to go home; he bunks nearly every night, hunkered down on the roll-ups, waking and rising with the sun, washing himself in the cold water from the faucet and making breakfast on the repaired range. Jared doesn’t ask him any questions so he returns the favor and doesn’t ask Jared any either. Jensen knows, just from what Jared has said (and he doesn’t say much), that his dad is dead but he doesn’t know much else.

He wonders why Jared doesn’t seem to go to school or have a job but neither does he. It has been a long time since the army, a long time since he returned home to find his life turned upside down and inside out. He knows hard work now, his hands, once a banker’s hands tender and soft, are callused, worn, fingernails broken and fingers full of cuts. He doesn’t think the world owes him anything and he doesn’t suffer fools gladly. It is quite a long time since he had a friend and Jared – Jared appears to be his friend and he doesn’t want to lose that.

***

**Old World**

The final push comes in driving, freezing rain. They charge across the fields, water splattering icy into their faces. Gun’s boom and the shouts are so loud his ears are stinging. To the left of him Aldis screams out something and he turns, fixed grin on his face, the two of them lock eyes as they move forward. It comes as a shock to see him suddenly fall, knees down into the dirt. Jensen cries out, grabs his arm and hauls him upwards. Soldiers hurtle by them, two men stuck in mud, stranded in the middle of a rain soaked field. There is blood on Aldis’s face, his shoulder and Jensen presses his hand against it, trying to stem it.

“Medic!” He screams, “I need a medic here now!”

There are shouts in reply as he tries to hold Aldis up, wrapping his arms around the other man’s waist. The rain so hard now that it's lashing his face painfully, his clothes clinging wet and cold to his body. He heard the cries of the other men, the guns getting closer and then, before he could react, something caught him hard in the chest. It winded him, no pain, but a sharp sting, liquid that was hotter than rain seeping out through his uniform jacket. He felt confused, Aldis slipping from his arms, his head spinning, knees drenched in the dirt. There were more cries and then darkness seeped into his brain and he knew nothing more.

***

**New World**

Jensen woke with a scream on his lips; he shot up into darkness, panting hard and fast, trying to calm himself.

“You okay?” It was Jared’s voice. “You okay, Jensen?”

Long fingers closed around his biceps and he realized that Jared was holding him firm, grounding him.

“Nightmare,” he choked out, realizing his face was wet. He hadn’t had a nightmare for a long time. He was usually too tired, exhausted, sleep a blank balm.

“Yeah, I guessed that’s what it was.” Jared leaned over and turned on the flashlight they kept next to the bedrolls. The room flared dim yellow and Jensen saw a tip-tilted nose, strong jaw and concerned slanting eyes. “Pretty bad one, huh?”

“S’ok.” Jensen smiled and hoped it didn’t look as false as it felt. “I’ve – it has been a long time.”

“The war?” Jared sounded curious. “You fought, didn’t you?”

Jensen hadn’t said anything about his past; they had talked about the house, about the jobs, hell even about the dogs that Jared seemed to adore but they had never discussed their lives. Jared appeared to have _‘adopted’_ him and he liked having him here. 

Nothing more, nothing less.

“Yeah.” Jensen’s neck prickled as the remnants of his nightmare faded away. “I fought.”

“My dad was killed fighting in Europe.” Jared lifted his chin in an odd display of defiance. “He was too old to go but he felt he had to defend his home. My grandfather chose this country to live in but he was always proud of his European heritage.” He shrugged. “My momma got lonely and she moved some guy in. He doesn’t like me – he uses his fists too much to get what he wants.” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly as if he had said too much, letting his mouth run on. “But we were talkin’ about you.”

“Were we?” Jensen quirked an eyebrow, he felt weary now, a yawn stretching his jaw. He lay back on his roll, heard the click of the flashlight as Jared settled back down.

“Maybe,” Jared’s voice was low. “Tomorrow there are jobs to do and I need my sleep,” he laughed, lazily. “You need yours too – g’d night.”

“Goodnight, Jared.” Comforted somehow Jensen’s eyes closed and he slipped into a dreamless sleep.

****

He watched Jared the next day; watched him paint the outside of the house, standing on top of the ladder without fear, whistling cheerfully. He was still gangly, still not quite a man despite his height. Jensen figured he would grow into himself, one day, and when he did – boy, would he be something. Jared’s skin was permanently tanned, his wild hair always clean, the start of muscle on his biceps and thighs. Jensen swallowed hard and blinked away something stinging and salty. He had seen boys as young as Jared blown to bits by grenades, seen them fall on the battlefield with a bullet through their chest. He had thought, once, that fighting for his country would give him a golden future, give everyone hope but he was certain now that he had been wrong. He had to make his own future, a new future and it was one so different to what he had planned.

***

 **Old World**

He doesn’t know how long he lay on the battlefield or, afterwards, in the field hospital. When he finally wakes, he is somewhere he doesn’t recognize, a nurse in white hovering over him, an angel. He asks, haltingly, about Aldis but she doesn’t know anything, then he asks how long and she sighs, patting his arm and smiling sadly.

“Three months,” her voice is low, gentle. “We thought we had lost you.”

“My family . . . .” He grasps at her hand. “Have they been told?”

“You had been in a field hospital in France – the French nurses did not know who you were. A reconnaissance mission found you three weeks ago and one of them recognized you, had you brought back here. I am so sorry but your family was told you were missing, presumed dead.”

Jensen felt sick; there was a pain in his chest and in his shoulder, a low throb in his gut. His family – shit, Danneel - all thought he was dead. He swallowed and tears began to trickle from beneath his lids, cold and salty on his hot face, the nurse’s face wreathed in concern. 

“I want to go home,” he said, small like a child and feeling more than vulnerable. “Please let me go home.”

***

 **New World**

The outside of the house looked fantastic, better than he could have ever imagined. Freshly painted and stable, the roof solid, windows clean and unbroken, the fence that surrounded it repaired and varnished. Jensen stood back and took it all in, mouth curving into a smile, unable to believe that they had made such an improvement.

“You’re a miracle worker, Jared.” Jensen patted Jared’s thin shoulder, rewarded by a dimpled grin in return. “We should go out for a beer and celebrate.”

“Not possible.” Jared nudged at him. “I’m too young for beer.”

“Then we’ll get a couple of cold ones and drink it here!” Jensen felt light-hearted, as if he had been set free. “How long – you know – before you turn eighteen?”

“In July.” Jared chewed on his lower lip. “I can move away legally then.”

Jensen stared at him for a long moment and thought about what Jared had said that night he had had his bad dream; he remembered Jared mentioning his stepfather’s fists, remembered how quickly Jared had shut-up, how fast he had changed the subject.

“Your stepfather still whaling on you?”

“When I give him the chance,” replied Jared, his smile was tight and he suddenly looked so young and vulnerable. “Nothin’ I do is good enough for him but he isn’t my father. He isn’t anything.”

“Is that why you quit school?” Jensen felt bad for probing, particularly as he wasn’t giving much away himself. Jared shrugged and rubbed his face, quieter than Jensen had ever known him to be, suddenly a little kid who was scared and lost.

“I wanted to go to college. Wanted to work on the land, maybe with animals,” Jared’s voice wavered a little. “He wanted me to get any job so that I could bring in some dollars for him. I couldn’t afford to go to college – not bright enough for a full ride.” Jared swallowed.

Jensen couldn’t think of anything to say so he reached out and put his arm around Jared’s shoulder and hugged him awkwardly. It had been a while since he had physically touched anyone, even longer, he mused internally, since he had been intimate and it felt oddly good to have Jared’s body pressed against his for a moment, all sharp bones and soft skin.

“It’ll be okay,” he whispered not sure, if it really would be.

“There aren’t any jobs – even when there is, there are so many men going for them.” Jared leaned in so that his whole body was a warm length along Jensen’s side.

“Something will come up, Jared.”

“I like it here.” It was a statement so honest and true that it made Jensen’s stomach clench, his heart thump.

“Yeah, well I like having you here as well.” Jensen couldn’t hold back the smile that was making its way to his face. Jared was smiling too, dimples and white teeth, eyes bright and fox-like.

They stayed like that for a while, leaning into one another, one taking strength from the other. Then, finally, Jensen pushed away and turned back to the house, still smiling.

“Let’s go get those beers now,” he said.

***

 **Old World**

He was released from hospital, discharged from the army, and a few months later sent home.

It was not the end to the war, he had expected; he had dreamed of winning the war, coming home to a ticker-tape welcome parade, Danneel running to meet him, his family standing proud as he was married her in his uniform, medals gleaming.

Instead, he limped home; thin, tired, a thick beard disguising him, his injuries nearly healed but his mental state nowhere near healthy. All he could think of was how happy his family would be to see him. He knew the army had informed them he was alive, that he was coming home and he was safe.

His daddy met him off the train; he had traveled coach class having very little money on him and barely any luggage. His dad looked a hundred years old, bowed and hunched, his eyes lighting up a little when he saw Jensen, an odd combination of hope, happiness and despair.

“Son!” He pulled Jensen into an awkward hug and Jensen went with it, letting his daddy hold him for a moment before looking around for his momma or Danneel.

“Hey.” He was clinging to his dad’s arm, his shoulder throbbing, his chest hot. “Where’s the rest of the family?” He went for light hearted but he felt something inside him crack apart. He knew that something was terribly wrong.

“Son.” His daddy looked like he might cry. “We thought you were dead,” his breath hitched. “We thought you were dead, Jensen,” he repeated and Jensen’s stomach dipped so hard he thought he might be sick.

“Danneel?” He asks and his daddy shakes his head.

“It’s been nearly a year son,” he replies, softly. “Danneel and Josh – they grieved together, they got closer and – and eventually,” he sighs. “They got married, Jensen. They got married six months ago and I am so, so sorry.”

There are no words and nothing he can do or say will ever change this moment. He stands at the train station with his luggage at his feet, tears rolling down his face, wetting his cheeks. Everything he had been fighting for, everything he thought he had in life was gone and he didn’t think that life would ever be the same again.

***

 **New World**

They are three beers in and Jared is flushed and giggling. Jensen should feel guilty but he doesn’t, he feels happy and light and he lays on his back on the bedroll and watches the ceiling spin around.

“I’m guessin’ you don’t have a girl anywhere around,” Jared slurs. “No one to help you with your cookin’ or cleanin’.”

“No.” Jensen has long got over the hurt. He has thrust it to the back of his mind and swamped it down under hard work. “No girl – what about you?”

“I never wanted a girl.” Jared rolled a little so that he could look Jensen in the eye and Jensen’s throat closed as he realized what Jared could be saying with such drunken honesty.

“I guess you are a little young yet.” Jensen wanted to keep the denial, didn’t really want to go there. He knew that there were men who didn’t love or like women – hell, he had seen men come together on the battlefields, come together on the eve of battle, one last stab of pleasure before certain death.

“Don’t want no girl,” Jared sounded sober now and his eyes were over bright in the room. “Never have and never will.” He tipped his chin up and stared at Jensen defiantly. “If that makes us less than friends, then I’m sorry.”

Jensen’s heart was thumping and there was a clenching in his stomach. It wasn’t disgust or distaste or even shock, it was something else entirely and he bit his lip reminding himself that he had always loved women (Danneel – he had loved Danneel) and that Jared was seventeen and it was illegal in so many ways.

“We will never, not be friends, Jared.” Jensen swallowed and Jared looked at him with such hope it made his heart ache. “We will always be friends.”

However, Jared’s silence told Jensen that he wanted a whole lot more.

***  
He hadn’t realized what a big part of his life Jared had become; the boy had practically moved in with him, had insinuated himself into Jensen’s life without him even noticing. In fact, it wasn’t until Jared didn’t arrive one morning that Jensen realized how much of his life had been dominated by Jared’s presence.

He worried. The day turned swiftly into evening and there was still no Jared. He felt no motivation to do any jobs, made a half-assed attempt at painting the inside study and then ate some soup from a can without even bothering to heat it. 

He missed Jared badly and the empty bedroll next to him stood mockingly, still rolled up, the first time it hadn’t been used in what seemed like months. Jensen realized he didn’t even know where Jared lived, he knew he lived on the outskirts of town somewhere but he had no idea of his address. He thought about contacting some of the people who had done favors for him, people who might know Jared and he was on the verge of walking into town when the door creaked open and a tall, skinny figure appeared swaying alarmingly.

Jensen caught Jared by the shoulder and supported him against his chest. Jared was pale, his right eye nearly swollen shut, black, blue and brown. There was blood smeared beneath his wide nostrils and his mouth cut open as if something like a ring had sliced into the delicate skin. There were tears in Jared’s eyes and they trickled down his cheeks. He did not attempt to stop them as he buried his head into Jensen’s neck, wetting the skin there.

“What happened?” Jensen touched his hair. “Jared?”

“My stepfather. He didn’t like the fact I was working here without payment. Someone told him, I guess, and he didn’t take too kindly to the news.”

“Oh, Jared.”

“I’m not ever goin’ home again,” there was defiance in his voice despite his tears, and his injuries. “Two weeks and I’m eighteen and I can do what I like.” He rubbed at his face, lifting it from Jensen’s shoulder, eyes fixed on Jensen’s face, longing and desperate.

Jensen knew it was wrong; he had never done it before in his life but he couldn’t help himself, couldn’t stop. He leaned forward and pressed his lips against Jared’s, hesitant and gentle, lips meeting, slow and unsure, the pleasure of it just a warm boil in the belly, the odd tightening of denim and the drag of tongues.

Jared’s hands came up to cup Jensen’s face, long fingers caressing, callused and warm. He was shaking, mouth moving faster now, licking his way into Jensen’s mouth, holding him, slotting his thigh between Jensen’s own, the sudden friction making them both groan.

It had been so long. After Danneel he had relied on certain _women_ for his pleasure. There was no love or affection, just a physical release. It had been odd and unsatisfying in reality but this, this was surprisingly exciting and Jensen felt himself harden further, his hips jerking as he pressed closer.

“We shouldn’t do this,” he managed to grunt out as their mouths separated but Jared held firm, pulling him closer, rubbing up against him like a cat, his hardness obvious and insistent against the firmness of Jensen’s thigh.

“Wanted to do this since I first saw you,” Jared’s voice wrecked. “Wanted your body close to mine, wanted to kiss you, to take all the pain from your eyes.” He rubbed harder, breath coming harshly, his whole body trembling. Jensen felt his own breath quicken, his legs shake. He could recall, easily, what it was like to be seventeen and wanting and he wasn’t shocked or disgusted when Jared suddenly moaned uncontrollably and Jensen felt warm liquid seeping through the thigh of his jeans as Jared flopped against him, almost taking them both down.

“Hey.” Jensen ignored his own erection in favor of kissing Jared through it and offering him a cold but working shower and a change of clothes. Jared was flushed, his face still a mass of bruising but his eyes were bright and he was smiling hard enough to dimple. “Hey.”

“S’good.” Jared was already stripping down, his shirt and boxers joining his clothing in a heap on the floor. Jensen’s throat caught as he saw the healing bruises on Jared’s chest, the scarring on his back and thighs.

“Your stepfather whales on you a lot,” he said his voice tight with anger.

“One day I’ll grow into myself and then . . . .” Jared stood naked in front of him with no shame or embarrassment. “Then maybe I’ll get even with him.”

“I’m sorry.” Jensen couldn’t help but stare. One day Jared will grow into his body he is sure of it. Already there is a little meat on his bicep, a layer of fat on his thigh. Jensen is still hard but he doesn’t want to push it but Jared is watching him through slanting eyes, meaningful and with purpose.

“You can – um – if you want to.” His high boned cheeks are pink and Jensen feels heat surge through him at that invitation. 

He shakes his head. “For your birthday,” he says with a smile.

“Better than a cake!” Jared is laughing as he walks into the bathroom and Jensen hears the shower crank, noisily, to life. He vows to take care of himself later when the sun goes down when they lie side by side on their bedrolls. He sighs and wonders, is he in a _relationship_ with Jared? If he is, then when did that happen? When did that just creep up on him? He isn’t gay or at least he wasn’t but there is something about Jared that just seems to have moved him and he is sure, more than sure, that he is growing more and more fond of him.

***

Jared snuggled down in his towel and drank coffee. Jensen stared at his poor battered face and wanted to touch him but doesn’t because he feared that if he did he wouldn’t be able to hold back again. Jared yawned and lay back on his bedroll, eyes on Jensen’s face, bright and fond.

“Today was good,” he said, finally. “It was awesome, what we did.”

“Yeah.” Jensen couldn’t hold back a smile. “Maybe, when you are older we’ll do more.”

“When I’m legal I’m gonna’ live here.” Jared’s statement was final, his face defiant. “I’ll help you get this place into shape.”

“No problem with me kid,” Jensen, teased, feeling incredibly light-hearted. “This is as much your place as it is mine.”

“Really?” There was hope in Jared’s fox-eyes and it made Jensen feel warm inside. “Jensen - .”

Jensen leaned across and put his finger over Jared’s lips, shushing him, bending down so that he could place a tender kiss on Jared’s mouth, holding him firm, the kiss deepening again.

“I thought you might have bought the house for a woman,” Jared said, softly, as they broke apart. “You know a fiancée or a wife.”

“I don’t have either.” Jensen put a broad finger under Jared’s strong chin. “My fiancée married my brother while I was fighting in France,” he swallowed, the first time he had told anyone this, ever. “They thought I was dead. They – there was a lot of money tied up in the marriage and it was considered a good match.” He shrugged. “I was heartbroken for months afterwards and I-I ran away from my cozy office job, away from my rich family, away from Danneel. I never thought I would be happy again, never thought I would love again until . . . .” He put his hands on Jared’s shoulders again and pulled him close. “Until I met some stubborn kid who refused to go home, I guess.”

And Jared smiled.

***

 **Old World**

He tried but it just didn’t work out.

His momma wept when she saw him and the rest of the family were overjoyed. Josh, though, was understandably awkward and Danneel had refused to see him altogether. He heard the guilt in Josh’s voice as he told Jensen just how things were, how Danneel had thought him dead and that they had fallen in love while comforting each other. Jensen listened and tried to comprehend but it was hard and it got harder when Josh showed him the house they had bought together, a house just like the dream house that Jensen had always wanted.

A month was all it took and then he was leaving a note on the kitchen table; leaving his house before dawn and running. He should never have come home. He knew that now. His family had mourned him and now they would have to mourn him again. He felt sorry but somehow he felt free and the sense of release and relief that surged through his veins as he stepped on a bus going to some place he had never even heard of was worth the heartbreak he was going to cause.

****

He worked his way across the state; at first, he tried for admin jobs but there were none and women took any that did exist, swiftly. Jensen soon realized that the muscle he had gained in the army would come in useful and, as soon as he felt his injuries had healed, he sought out work on the fields and in the orchards; hard, physical graft that left him exhausted, with no time to think or to feel.

Sometimes he would lie awake at night, body aching, mind whirling and he would think about Danneel, dream about the ambitions they had, dream about her lying in his arms. Sometimes he would think about the war, about Aldis, wondering whether he had lived or died. He never once shed a tear and it disturbed him, disturbed him in a way that he couldn’t explain. He felt numb, distancing himself from the other workers, never staying long enough to form friendships, taking the money and shoving into his backpack, forever moving until he had put thousands of miles between him and his family.

***

 **New World**

Two days before Jared’s birthday and the house was nearly finished.

Only the orchard remained, he knew that it was going to be hard work and Jensen figured that he had enough money left to pay for some labor. Jared insisted that they could do it together but Jensen wanted them to relax, enjoy some peace and quiet. He had planned something special for Jared’s eighteenth, a trip away to the coast, a romantic dinner for two maybe. He had never really done this with a man before and he had no idea how to approach it, how to initiate it. He knew, from the little they had experienced together, that Jared wanted him and he knew, from his body’s reaction, he wanted Jared back. They were (or would be) consenting adults and Jensen wanted everything to be perfect.

****

Jensen is in the orchard when he hears the voice; it is rich, familiar and he thinks he might be dreaming. 

Aldis’s head appears over the wall, eyes bright and alive. Very much alive.

“Jensen?” He vaults the wall and embraces Jensen, arms going around him and holding him tight, so tight Jensen can barely get his breath. “Good God – I heard you were dead.”

Jensen doesn’t have words and the tears that he has avoided all this time finally come, salt and cold, down his hot cheeks, throat aching, and heart thumping hard in his chest. Aldis is laughing, they both are and it is a long time before they draw apart, hands on each others shoulders, smiles so wide it makes their faces ache.

“Jensen?” It is Jared’s voice, tentative and a little scared, a tone that Jensen has never heard before, that breaks them apart.

“Jared.” Jensen can’t keep the smile back. “This is Aldis. We – we fought together.”

Jared’s eyes were lowered, his chin almost on his chest. His face was pale.

“Hey,” he said, finally. “Nice to meet you.”

“I was just answering the ad I saw placed in the local store.” Aldis looked as stunned as Jensen felt. “One for fruit pickers to tidy your orchard. Who knew?” He kept his hands on Jensen’s shoulder. “Jensen, it’s so good to see you.”

***

They drank beer and talked; talked and talked about the war and what had happened since. Jensen couldn’t quite believe that Aldis – his friend – was here and alive and, by his manner, it was obvious that Aldis couldn’t believe it either. It was getting late and he invited Aldis to stay the night. The bedrooms were finished now, no need for the bedrolls but he noticed that Jared had unrolled his and was settling down, silent, quieter than he had ever known the boy to be.

“Hey.” Jensen touched his shoulder briefly. “No need to sleep here – the bed is ready.”

Slanting fox eyes met his and Jared raised a thin shoulder in a shrug. “Let Aldis take the bed, I’m okay here.”

Jensen didn’t want them to spend this night apart; tomorrow Jared would be legal and he wanted to give him his surprise, wanted to take him away as planned. He knew he could trust Aldis to look after the place, knew he could trust Aldis not to blab about him and Jared and their _‘relationship’_ and he was happier than he had been in a while, even though Jared seemed to get more and more morose as the night drew on.

He showed Aldis to his room and felt a stab of pride, as the other man looked it over. 

“You’ve done well Jensen even though I imagined I’d find you living with that wild cat redhead of yours rather than some gangly youth.”

“It’s a long story.” Jensen’s heart no longer clenched at the thought of Danneel, and hadn’t done for some time. Deep down, Jensen guessed he had been in love with the idea of love. He had been in love with the thought of having someone as rich and as beautiful as Danneel in his house and in his bed.

War had changed him; war had made him grow up, had made him more cynical, it had made him see the world for what it really was. Without the war and his experiences he would still be the spoiled little rich kid he had always been, still working in a comfy office, never really knowing anything but luxury, never having to really work at anything, taking it all for granted.

He had this house now, his island, his place in the world. Everything he had here he had worked for; he had Jared too, a relationship he had never seen coming, a gangling boy who was about to become a man, his best friend, his confident, his all.

“You love him.” Aldis grinned. “Don’t you?”

“Yeah, this is love,” he sighed. “It caught up with me before I even saw it coming.”

***

He had intended to take Jared away but, despite his pleading, the younger boy wouldn’t go.

“Your friend is here,” he said, voice low, sullen almost. “You should stay with him for a while. I guess you have a lot of years to catch up on.”

“It’s your birthday.” Jensen had presents wrapped up in the attic, and a cake ordered at the store. “We should celebrate.”

“When the orchard is finished,” Jared’s throat moved. “We’ll celebrate then.”

Jensen tried to read Jared’s expression but he couldn’t. He shrugged. “Whatever you want,” he said and Jared lowered his face again, hair obscuring his expression.

“I just want you to be happy,” he whispered.

****

The intimacy, the closeness that they had once shared seemed to have dissipated with the arrival of Aldis. Jensen had been happy to see his old friend again but not to the detriment of his relationship with Jared. Jared was eighteen and legal, he had hoped that - he wasn’t sure what he had hoped but whatever it was seemed to have been lost suddenly.

Jared wasn’t talking much; he still stayed at night, didn’t go home now that his stepfather had no claim on him. This should have been a happy time, the start of a new life for both of them and, despite the fact that the house and orchard were almost perfect, Jensen couldn’t take any pleasure in it, worried and concerned for the first time in a long time.

He dreamed - nightmares about the war, about losing Jared in the heat of battle, blood and pain and death. Aldis took to sleeping in his room with him, the two of them whispering stories, talking about old times. Aldis explained that he, like Jensen, hadn’t been able to settle in his old life and was as rootless and directionless as Jensen had been. 

Jared was silent; he worked hard and ate with them but he hardly joined in their conversation. There was an air of wariness, and avoidance about him and Jensen wanted to find out what he had done, why they had suddenly become less than friends. 

However, Jared wasn’t saying anything to him and he felt powerless to do anything but worry.  
***  
Two weeks after Aldis had arrived Jensen caught Jared rolling up his bedroll and shoving his clothing into a backpack. For a moment, Jensen froze and then he realized what was happening.

“Jared.” He felt sick, stomach churning repeatedly. “Jared – what – are you . . . ?”

“I thought I might take a tip from you and see a bit of the world.” Jared’s smile was false, no dimples. “You know, give you and Aldis some space.”

“Kid . . . .” And he hadn’t called Jared that for a while. “What sort of relationship do you think we have?”

“I – Aldis knew you back then.” Jared’s face flamed. “You were together through the war – he told me you saved his life and you were hurt. I thought - .”

Jensen looked into those slanting eyes and knew just what Jared thought. Aldis was part of his old world, Jared part of the new. Jensen hadn’t even tried to merge the two, forgetting one for the other. He swallowed and reached out, pulling Jared to him, feeling him relax, reluctantly, into his grasp.

“I told you about Danneel – do you think I would forget to mention Aldis? He’s my friend but nothing more.” Jensen held on tighter. “It is you I – it is you I am in love with.”

“You love me?” Speckled hazel eyes went wide and Jared’s mouth quirked upwards, hope clearly written on his face. “I – since we met, I really wanted us . . . .” He bit his lip. “I thought maybe you and Aldis had a _thing_.”

“I wasn't interested in men until I met you.” Jensen grinned, relief coloring every move. “The army don’t exactly encourage – um and my family wanted me to marry and have grand-kids. I wanted that but now – now I want you.”

“I’ve been an idiot.” Jared swallowed hard. “I never could trust anyone since my father died and that bastard took over.” He leaned in closer. “I wanted you so much and, when Aldis came, I thought I had lost you.”

“There are presents.” Jensen couldn’t keep the smile from his face. “In the attic, I bought them for you.” He felt his stomach loosen, his heart thundering. “Why don’t we go up there now and fetch them.”

Jared’s mouth opened and closed again and his eyes glinted wickedly. Jensen took his hand and tugged him, both of them virtually fighting to get up the loft ladder, shirts already undone and pants unzipped by the time they reached the warm and dusty interior of the attic. 

Jensen eased Jared back onto the hard surface; it didn’t make a lot of sense, there were beds downstairs, a comfy couch and Aldis not back for a few hours but he needed this and he wanted it now and he wasn’t prepared to wait. Jared hissed as his hands pulled down baggy denim and took boxer shorts too. Jared was all hip-bones and long, slender legs and it was all Jensen had dreamed about for a long time in this new world, where his dreams were no longer of red hair and pink lips. 

He prepped Jared slow and easy; in this they were both virgins and he didn’t want to hurt Jared, wasn’t sure even what he was doing just that Jared seemed to like it, moaning and grabbing his shoulders, pulling him closer and muttering things to him that made him harder and more eager. Finally feeling confident enough, when he felt Jared was ready, he entered him slowly, face to face, watching him carefully. Feeling him buck and hiss beneath him, the two of them going slow, then faster until it built up into something else, something that was unstoppable - a truck rolling downhill without brakes. The feelings inside of him became so overwhelming he almost blacked out when his climax came, his hand tight on Jared’s cock, feeling the warm wetness of Jared’s own release.

He knew then that he had come home.

****

They ate by the fire, potatoes and steaks, homegrown fruit for dessert. Aldis watched them with a beaming smile on his face, the scent of baking, polish and fresh grass mingling to give Jensen the sense that this was his world now, that he had crossed the barrier between new and old and this is where he belonged.

****

 

**10 Years later - Jensen’s World**

The orchard was ripe with fruit; apples, pears, plums, a cornucopia of color and scent. Jensen wandered amongst the carefully pruned trees and smiled as he ran his hand over the wooden swing set that Jared had fixed in preparation for today. He turned back to the house and saw how perfect it looked in the red glow of the rising sun. It was clean and smart, flowers planted in the garden, grass green and neatly cut. 

It was Paradise on earth and his world utterly and completely.

Inside it was just as tidy; paintwork spruced up, old sofa recovered, curtains washed and hung around glass windows that sparkled and shone. In the kitchen, Aldis was washing his hands, the smell of homemade bread coming from the oven, cakes cooling on the worktop. Aldis had stayed with them all this time, wanting nothing more than to put down his own roots and Jensen considered him as part of his ‘family’.

 

A noise on the stairs made him look up and he saw Jared appear. For a moment, Jensen took the time to appreciate what he was seeing, still, after all these years unable to relate this giant of a man with the gangly boy he had fallen in love with.

Jared had certainly ‘grown-in’ to himself. He was well over 6ft now, taller than Jensen and broad with it, his shoulders and biceps pushing at the striped cotton shirt that he wore, his legs long and strong in smart pants bought at their favorite store and made especially for Jared’s enormous frame. His face was still long, jaw still strong, cheeks still dimpled but it was so much more mature now with stubble gracing his chin. His hair had grown long, soft and chestnut it flipped up around his neck and hung fluffy around his shoulders. Aldis teased him by calling it girly but there was nothing feminine about Jared, he was all-male; warm, strong and reliable and Jensen loved him as much as ever and still wanted him every day.

“Nervous?” Jared slung an arm around Jensen’s shoulder and hugged him gently.

“Yeah, terrified.” Jensen laid his head against Jared’s shoulder and moved a little closer. “I just don’t know how they will react – to the house – to my new job – to you.”

“They’ll love me,” Jared laughed, deep and low. “I’ll make sure of it.”

At exactly noon, he heard the car rumble up the driveway to the front door and his heart clenched hard in his chest. His family – part of the old world he had left behind – were about to become part of his new world. He had written to them many times over the years, sent photographs of the house, told them about his new job as a gardener (to which they had reacted quite badly but not as badly as when he had finally confessed about Jared).

Jared had moved in with him permanently and Jensen had had the pleasure of watching him grow. Jared had gone back to school with Jensen’s encouragement and he now worked as an assistant to the local vet. Jared had never been happier and constantly brought home waifs and strays that Jensen just couldn’t turn away, just as he had been unable to turn Jared away when he had first turned up at his door.

This was his life now; he was strong and tanned, always outdoors, always working. He earned enough to keep the house in good shape, to keep them fed and clothed and run a small but reliable car. He had become part of the town, everyone seemingly knowing whom he was, old women bringing him and Jared pies, casseroles appearing on their doorstep and cakes thrust into his arms when he went into the local store for supplies.

The three of them could cook quite well and they grew their own fruit and vegetables. People would drift by and talk to them as they sat on the porch drinking beer well into the night and, to Jensen’s shock and surprise, no one seemed to judge them and for that, he was happy.

Now his family had arrived; their expensive cars and big city clothing out of place in the boonies. His momma was still wearing her mink despite the heat of the day and his daddy looked uncomfortable. Josh got out of the second car with Danneel clinging to his arm. She was wearing an expensive coat and pearls and her hair swept into a bun. Two small redheaded little girls clung to each of her carefully manicured hands and Jensen stared at them, expecting to feel a twinge of sadness or regret but feeling nothing but relief, the warm heat of Jared of his back enough.

***

“It is lovely.” His momma sat under one of the apple trees fanning herself. She had taken off her coat and hat and her hair was coming out of its pins. His daddy was talking to Aldis and sampling one of their dark purple Methley plums while Danneel watched as Jared pushed two whooping little girls on the swing set that he had made so painstakingly. “You have made such a wonderful home here Jensen, you should be proud.”

Jensen beamed; here it was in all its glory, the coming together of his new world and his old one, the healing of a rift that had lasted for far too long. 

“Your . . . um . . . young man is very fine.” His momma was seeking the right words, he could hear it in her voice, and see it in her eyes. “We weren’t happy and it has taken a long time but. . . .” She touched his arm. “You deserve all the happiness in the world, son and it seems you have it.”

Jensen hugged his momma to him. He saw Jared catch his eye, saw him swoop the little girls into his arms, carry them over to Danneel who was laughing with them, saw her pat Jared’s shoulder, saw the flush on Jared’s cheeks. Jensen felt his whole heart almost burst with pride and he knew, right there and then, that things were going to be all right.

Jensen’s worlds had joined and he knew he would see more of his parents now, more of his family. As he kissed Danneel goodbye he felt nothing but happiness, no regret and no pain, just the fact that he was looking forward to seeing his nieces grow up, seeing them here in his home again. He waved his family off as they drove away down the drive and he couldn’t stop smiling.

“That went well.” Jared swept him into strong arms and kissed him, Aldis laughing behind them, the scent of fruit and grass strong in their nostrils as they watched the setting sun.

“They liked you.” Jensen returned his kiss with ardor and Jared laughed.

“I told you they would,” he said and Jensen moved, impossibly, closer.

“Shall we go to bed?” Jared pulled his hand and he let Jared lead him into the house, the night stretching ahead of him, warm, dark, and safe.

“Yeah.” He leaned into another kiss and closed the door behind him. “Let’s do that.”

This was his world now, he mused, as Jared swept him up in his strong arms and he would never ever change it.

End

 


End file.
